


Fall

by Clockwork_Mockingbird



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Victor being cute, Yuuri being anxious, Yuuri falls, but it all turns out okay i swear, lots of swearing, there's a hospital involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:01:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8952946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clockwork_Mockingbird/pseuds/Clockwork_Mockingbird
Summary: A skater always knows how to fall on the ice. Falling for a person, now that's a totally different story.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I am so gone for these two, their love is killing me, send help

The first thing a skater learns to do is fall. Actually, it's the second thing, and it comes immediately after _lace up skates, stand on ice,_ and just before _shake it off, don't let it get stiff, this ice has seen more blood than you'll ever know._

Yuuri is no stranger to falling. He's wiped out more times than he can count, and maimed himself enough to half-seriously joke that he should be going for a nursing degree instead of language (Mari always sighs and finishes wrapping his ankle/knee/foot/wrist for him and mutters about brothers _being such a pain_ \- "I'm actually in pain why are _you_ complaining!").

Victor nods once, laughing that damn laugh of his, and promptly pulls up his pant leg to show the faint scar running along his shin.

"I landed wrong and broke my leg so bad I needed surgery," he explains, letting the triplets poke at the puckered skin. Pictures show up on their Instagram account less than an hour later.

"Yeah, you were thirteen," Yuuri remembers, like he was there. Which he wasn't, but he knew, because can you say _obsessed_ , but Yuuko could spout off that fact too, so maybe it wasn't _too_ weird. "But you still took silver the next year in the cup of China."

Victor's staring.

Okay, maybe a little weird.

"Aw, Yuuri, I didn't know you cared," he croons, reaching over to brush black hair back, like he has no idea, like it's new and funny that Yuuri knew everything about it. Like he couldn't possibly know just how much Yuuri actually cares.

He couldn't know. Well, okay, he _could_. Yuuri is many things but _subtle_ and _smooth_ hadn't been invited to the party (they'd gotten the invitation in the mail and decided to join Victor's gang instead, that was it, yeah). So Victor might possibly _maybe_ know about Yuuri's tiny, barely there, _totally insignificant_ crush on his idol/coach/the living god that swan dived directly into his life and eats all the katsudon right in front of him.

Victor's hand traces the shell of Yuuri's ear, and the part of Yuuri's brain that is still wired in some kind of working order immediately begins shrieking, alarm bells blaring and lights flashing.

_ALERT WARNING WARNING ALERT_

God dammit, Victor.

Yuuri isn't good at this, okay? He has no idea how to act when _Victor Nikiforov_ of all people is _totally not_ flirting with him. When _Victor Nikiforov_ hops in the hotspring with him, naked as a jaybird and twice as cheery, and offers to wash his back. When _Victor goddamn Nikiforov_ traces his lips with his thumb.

When _motherfucking Victor goddamned Nikiforov_ smiles that goddamned innocent, dorky, goofy, wonderful smile and acts like he knows exactly what he's doing when he _does not_ flirt with Yuuri Katsuki.

Because he isn't flirting. Because that's just not happening. No sir, no thank you, don't come again.

Once more, for the hopeful in the back, it's Victor Nikiforov, and he's Yuuri Katsuki, and that's all there is to it. Victor touches everyone, smiles at everyone, and floats between people like a happy and hyper bee. If he pays any special attention to Yuuri, well, he's his coach. It's in the job description.

And that kiss-

The kiss was just-

It was...

Yuuri clutches his traitor heart, rubs his traitor lips roughly to rid himself once and for all of the taste, the feel of Victor against him, and tells his traitor brain to shut the fuck up already. He can feel his heartbeat all the way down to his toes and ducks his head to hide the blush he can already feel spreading from the tip of his ears.

Sprawled happily on the onsen floor with the triplets, Makkachin snoring between them, the tv blaring some cartoon in the background, Victor has no idea that he's broken his student. Again.

But he looks up when Yuuri stands, and he _sees_ the look on his face, and he's turning before Yuuri can leave, because he _always, always_ has to do something that almost convinces Yuuri he's not crazy.

"Yuuri? What's wrong?"

Captivated by something on their phone, the triplets pay them no mind.

"Are you okay?" he asks, voice low, and Yuuri feels it vibrate in his chest, right there alongside his traitor heart.

"Yes," he lies, and he's getting better at it now, but he can't look at Victor and see anything other than a coach, a friend, so he doesn't look at him at all. "I'm going to see if the pond's frozen yet."

And he flees. He's getting good at that too.

Don't scream, they'll stop you, don't go too fast, they'll come after you, don't go too slow, they'll think they can come with.

Yuuri's almost out the door, skates slung over his shoulder, when a warm _familiar_ hand reaches out and just grabs his, like it has every right to twine their fingers together, like this is what it's supposed to do, like this is how it's supposed to be.

"Yuuri-"

God _dammit_ , Victor.

"Don't lie to me. I always know when something's wrong."

And there it all goes, just swirling merrily down the drain. His heart thumps pleasantly, happy, and Yuuri cannot turn his brain off, cannot squash the hope and joy that fills him when Victor says things like that.

Victor always says things like that. It's getting to be very confusing, really.

A skater always knows how to fall, how to land with minimal injuries. When to eat ice and when to hit hip first. What will hurt more, what won't hurt at all, and for the love all that's holy don't twist your ankle wrong now.

Everything in him is screaming for him to yank his hand from Victor's and bolt out the door. And go where? He's at home and Victor could follow him to Ice Castle. But there's one voice that whispers, quietly, carefully, gently that Victor wouldn't say what he didn't mean. That he wouldn't be here still, after everything, if he didn't care. That the kiss didn't mean nothing.

And Yuuri would be lying if he tried to say it meant nothing to him.

But. But. But.

Victor's finger went under his chin, tipping Yuuri's face up.

"Yuuri. Whatever it is, you can tell me." (Yuuri's brain chooses this exact moment to start screaming NOPE. Nopenopenopenope _nope_.)

"Ah," Yuuri manages. "I- well."

Several continents away, he swears he can hear his professors moan and slap their hands to their faces and get ready to come take his degree away.

"Hm?"

Victor never _judges_. He's a tough coach when he needs to be, when Yuuri needs him to be, but he's always so damn _kind_ that it hurts. He's carefree, so carefree it's almost comical. He just does not care if he's naked, or if it's embarrassing, or if swimming in the ocean while there's snow outside isn't a good idea. He does what he pleases.

What he wants.

"Why did you kiss me?" Yuuri blurts, and as soon as the last syllable escapes he waits for the lightning to come _smite him already_.

It doesn't, of course. Because that's not how life works.

Embarrassment level: _rising_.

Yuuri would like to die now, thank you, okay, goodbye.

"Why...?" Victor blinks once, twice, three times, like he's frozen in place. "You don't _know_?"

Oh crap, was there a test? Should he have been taking notes? Yuuri flails, sweating through his sweatshirt despite the open door and the snow drifting in by his feet. _They didn't teach you how to pass this kind of test in school okay._

"I-I-I, no I, um, sure I know- I mean I have an _idea_ \- well not an idea, just a vague notion, a semi-thought, a quasi- a- a-"

"Oh god," Victor moans, free hand coming to cover his eyes. "All this time, after everything, and you _don't know_."

Wait.

Why is he smiling?

Yuuri is very ready to run away now, it's time to go, bye-bye.

"Ah, I _would_ have to fall for someone like that, making me throw myself at you again and again, and then making me say it on top of that? Really, Yuuri, so very unkind of you."

Huhbuwah?

Hold up, hold the phone, _WHAT_ -

No.

Nope.

He has to be hearing things. Has to be. Surely this is all one grand hallucination- _what the hell was in those mushrooms MOM_ \- because surely, clearly, there was no freaking way that this is happening. Not right now and not to him.

Victor Nikiforov did not just say "fall for" and "you" in the same sentence. To him. To Yuuri.

That's just not how the world works okay? It's not, it's not, it's not.

No.

Way.

"Guh," Yuuri wheezes, and now his brain is just _completely_ not working anymore, he'd like life to give him a new one.

And then Victor is _laughing_.

"Yuuri, my sweet Yuuri."

And then Victor is _kissing_ _him_.

And this is happening.

And it's real.

He can taste him.

Yuuri's brain decides that it very much works now, all the wires fully charged and sparking all at once, here we go, fireworks, bang, crackle, _boom_ _boom boom_ goes his heart, and _crash_ go his skates right to the floor, and the fabric of his sweatshirt whispers against Victor's cotton shirt when his arms wrap around his shoulders and every thought Yuuri's ever had in his life just evaporates like smoke.

Oh.

_Oh._

Victor's lips curve before they even leave his. "Okay?" he asks, eyes searching his for any hint that it's not.

It's very, _very_ okay. So okay that Yuuri wants it to happen again. Like now.

Victor's hand cups Yuuri's face, fingers playing with the end of his hair.

Of course. Victor is a master at speaking without words. He skates, he dances, his body and actions speak _for_ him, why would he ever try to say what he thought he's already said hundreds of times, thousands of times?

Yuuri just hadn't been listening.

"Okay," he says, and he can feel the grin. "Okay. Okay." And he's cupping Victor's face, and pulling him down to kiss him again, and thank god he took ballet and not jazz because if he wasn't en pointe he would be way too short for this to work.

(Yuuri's brain: _ohmyjesusfuckwhatishappening_ )

Victor backs him against the door, reaching behind him to slide it closed with a click... and sticks his cold fingers _directly_ on Yuuri's warm back.

Yuuri absolutely does _not_ shriek.

"Okay," Victor breathes, hand inching up _even higher_ on Yuuri's back until it's resting between his shoulder blades and oh dear god is this actually really happening- _mom seriously the hell did you put in those mushrooms_.

"I... pond. Pond," Yuuri remembers.

"Pond? We are finally kissing and you're thinking about a pond? What a cruel, cruel man has my attentions."

Excited now, or maybe just happy, or disbelieving, or _something_ , Yuuri smiles and snatches his skates from the floor. "There's a pond on the other side of the property- sometimes it freezes over enough to skate on so-"

"Oh! How wonderful! I have not skated on a pond in years." Victor turns a neat pirouette right there, turns that grin on him again. "I will join you! We can skate and dance. I'll be right back, I need to change..."

He spins again, whips around too fast for Yuuri to follow, and kisses him again, slow and sweet until Yuuri's aware that his knees no longer work.

"I'll meet you there," he says, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Yuuri's already on the ice before his brain taps him on the shoulder and asks if this is a date.

And then he trips and lands face first on the ice.

Oh hell.

A date with Victor? No way. Just no way. Just like there was no way they'd kissed _three times_ in the entryway. Just like Victor had _not_ said he'd fallen for Yuuri. Just like there was absolutely no way that Yuuri was totally, completely, head over heels in actual love with him.

He rolls onto his back and laughs up at the sky.

Is this is life? Like, actually? Because he needed to rescind his request for a refund if it is.

Because kissing Victor goddamn Nikiforov was apparently a thing that happened now, and any life that has that in it is okay in Yuuri's book.

Okay.

Yuuri gets to his knees, then all fours, then his feet, and spins a quick circle for the fun of it, to fast for a jump, too sloppy for any kind of combo spin. He feels so light, like he could skate on the air...

But he couldn't. Because this _is_ life. And a lot of times in life things happen that shouldn't, that you wish wouldn't, but they can, and so they do.

Like barely frozen ice giving way under your skates.

The ice cracks loudly, _boom_ , and Yuuri is under the water before he is even aware he was falling. The absolute freezing cold of it shocks him, and for a minute, just a moment, he is completely still, body heavy and limp.

Millions of little needles sank into him, digging and ripping into his skin. His lungs burn from a single shocked inhale, the reflex of a gasp, and even as he kicks to the surface, powering upwards, Yuuri knows this is bad. The pond is much deeper than he remembers, or maybe he's not actually moving all that fast.

Supposed to kick off your shoes if you fall underwater, some distant voice tells him, and he can't because they're skates and they're tight. And he's suddenly so very tired. His eyes burn. How can he be burning under such cold?

_Well,_ he thinks rather calmly at the darkness creeping into his eyes, _at least I got to kiss Victor before I died_.

A skater always knows how to fall.

No.

Just one single thought and Yuuri kicks up from the bottom. His lungs are spasming, desperate for air, but he's stubborn, dammit, and if he's ever going to kiss Victor again he's going to have to get out of the pond and away from the freezing cold.

Yuuri explodes out of the water, lungs drawing greedy chunks of air that feel like they're shredding his chest with every inhale. His fingernails scrabble for purchase against smooth ice, and he claws his way out of the water. He rolls onto the ice and prays it holds up until he can move. To the snow now. The cold slaps at him, spearing into his lungs until _thought_ is too painful.

He collapses, spent, face first on the ground. He needs to move, has to try and get someone's attention to try and get help. If he stays out here it'll get much, much worse very, very quickly. But he's so tired.

So tired.

Blackness creeps in from the corners, and Yuuri is powerless to lift his head. His eyes are so heavy. Distantly, he thinks he can hear someone call his name, frantic and scared, but he's pretty sure he's imagining things now.

Life, you're fired.

* * *

When he wakes two days later in the hospital, a terrible ache in his head and an even worse one in his chest, Victor is there, holding his hand like it's the most natural thing in the world. Like he's _supposed_ to be there, gripping one of Yuuri's hands in both of his.

Like he's supposed to spring from his chair and fling himself onto the bed and hold Yuuri like he'll never let him go.

"If you _ever do that to me again_ -" Victor mumbles fiercely against his chest, and Yuuri smiles, warm and content, and coughs- because he is pretty damn sick. He can feel the spiderwebs in his chest and the fog in his head and he's sure he's burning with fever now. The heart rate monitor increases in _beeps_ and Yuuri wonders if he can turn it off without scaring whoever's watching the readouts at the nurse's station. The sound hurts his head, and also his heart rate is going _way_ up with Victor clinging to him like this.

"Victor-"

"Never again, Yuuri. _Never again_."

And these are some damn good drugs they've pumped into him, because Yuuri's mouth is moving before his brain is even awake.

"I love you."

Victor springs away and wails.

Not really the reaction he was expecting. Is he still dreaming? Maybe he really is dead. He'll just go back to sleep now...

" _Now?_ You say that to me _now_? Like I haven't been waiting by your bed for two days for you to open your eyes and tell me you're alright?" Victor's hands grip his hair as he paces a tight circle. He whirls around to jab one slender finger at Yuuri, face solemn. "You can't just nearly _die_ on me, make me think I'm going to _lose you_ and expect everything to be okay because you tell me you love me."

Yuuri's not entirely sure what's going on here. He tries to reach for Victor, but the sting of the IV in the crook of his arm stops him. He can't quite sit up yet, and _jesus christ_ it's cold in here. But he's sweating? And shaking.

Victor throws himself back onto the bed and grips Yuuri for dear life, either not noticing or not caring about the sweat beading on Yuuri's skin.

"I am so angry at you for scaring me like that," he breathes into Yuuri's shoulder, and surely Victor's not actually _crying_ into the hospital gown, is he? He can't be. "I almost _lost you_. You nearly left us, all of us! Your parents, Makkachin, Yuuko, Takeshi, the triplets, me- don't you ever do that to us again. We were so scared, Yuuri. I was so scared." He says the last part quietly, like he's afraid to admit it.

He's shaking, too.

Yuuri's pretty sure he needs to say something here, but he has no idea when the script changed on him, so he wraps his arms around Victor instead.

"Victor," he tries again. He's not entirely sure what he's going to say, but he knows he needs to say _something._

Maybe something along the lines of 'I'm alright' or 'I'll be more careful on freshly frozen ponds' or maybe he'll just kiss him again and let that be that.

"Yuuri Katsuki." Victor pulls back, a hand on each of Yuuri's shoulders, mouth a grim line. "I love you," he announces. "And if you ever die on me, I _will_ kill you."

Well now he's completely lost.

Love. He said love. Victor said _I love you_. He said it, just now, right here, what is even _happening anymore_ -

"Okay," Yuuri says, a hand to Victor's face. His voice is raspy and rough, and his head feels heavy and thick. Something in him feels light suddenly, free and bright. He wants to laugh.

Victor nods once. "Okay."

A skater always knows how to fall.

And when to jump.

And apparently kissing your boyfriend while hooked up to a heart monitor makes the nurses burst in, thinking you're having a heart attack, and catch a world-famous ice skater with his hand up your shirt. So that's something else he knows now.


End file.
